


forge

by Splintered_Star



Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-29
Updated: 2019-12-29
Packaged: 2021-02-27 13:35:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,197
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22018009
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Splintered_Star/pseuds/Splintered_Star
Summary: Forging weapons, and other things.Cloud’s fusion sword wasn’t the only weapon he made.
Relationships: AVALANCHE - Relationship
Comments: 9
Kudos: 71





	forge

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this in 2016, always meant to expand it, never did. 
> 
> So here it is.

Cloud’s fusion sword wasn’t the only weapon he made.

He made it first, of course, carved it out of bones and metal in between one delivery and the next - not because he needed a new sword, not really, but because sometimes he couldn’t sleep and he couldn’t work on the bike and he couldn’t train and it felt like all of the mako in his blood was /boiling/ - so he sketched out designs in the dust and in beaten notebooks from before Midgar burned - it was… relaxing, somehow. Peaceful.

After the Remnants, and after the rain, when Cloud came home, he noticed almost absently that Tifa’s gloves were getting worn, and caught himself thinking, “hm, maybe if I…”

He didn’t tell her he was making her a new set of gloves. He felt bad for keeping secrets, but he’d feel worse disappointing her if they weren’t very good. They were - a challenge, nothing like making a sword, but an interesting one. Enjoyable, like one of the puzzles Reeve fiddled with during meetings, or Tifa making a drink without looking at her hands.

There was something quietly satisfying, he realized, in /making/ things, in taking raw materials and forming them into something new, something useful. It was good to finish the gloves - adamantium and dragon hide and WEAPON-bone - and know that they were /good/ - good to be able to look at them and think “yes, I made these.”

It was something, he realized half way through riveting on the thumb guard, that was /his/ - something he didn’t do because he had to, because it was expected from him. It wasn’t from Zack or from Sephiroth or from Jenova or any of the other shards of Other inside of his head.

He, Cloud Strife, apparently enjoyed making things. It was an odd thing to realize.

Tifa was grateful - shocked, but in a good way, and her smile was soft. The gloves fit perfectly, and stood up to anything she put them through. She wore them whenever she fought, and he didn’t think it was just to make him feel better.

He made other things, when he had time or - oddly - just when he wanted to, whenever an idea occurred to him. He made bracers for Marlene and Denzel - only shell and cure materia, he insisted, and they nodded solemnly. The area was safer but monsters still came out of Midgar, sometimes. (He carved their names into the inside of the bracers, so that they wouldn’t get them mixed up.)

He sketched out a halberd on the back of a napkin, listening to Cid explain the new engine on the Shera - it ended up being seven feet long, lighter than it looked, and an elemental affinity for lightning. He dropped it off in Rocket Town when he was passing through, without telling Cid. (His hands were a little bit sweaty, honestly, because Tifa was Tifa and the kids were the kids, but he had no idea how Cid would react.) A few days later, he gets a call.

“Hey, spikeball. Nice weapon. How much d’ya want for it?”

Cloud swallowed. “Nothing.” A beat. He almost smirked. “Call it payment for helping out with Fenrir.”

Another moment. “All righty then. Say hello next time you’re in town, ya idiot.”

Cid hung up, and Cloud let out a relieved breath. Cid was rough and Cid was angry but there were somethings that he just understood.

Adaptions to Barret’s arm were a new level of complexity, involving mechanics on a scale Cloud had never even tried before - but he borrowed old books from Cid and from Reeve and spread them out on the kitchen table, with circuit diagrams and materia interfaces and Marlene perched on the chair next to him flipping through books and chirping, “you should put the materia slot down there, so that I don’t kick it when I’m on his shoulder.” 

Marlene presented it to Barret herself, smiling and saying, “Cloud and I made this for you!” Cloud ducked away from the hugs Marlene got, but Barret still managed to clap him on the shoulder before he escaped.

Cloud spent a month in Cosmo Canyon, because they had entirely different smelting techniques there, and a completely new way of forming materia slots - He gave Nanaki a clip on his way out, made as traditionally as he could manage, with materials he’d gathered on site. Nanaki held it in his paw for a long moment, and growled his thanks. It was enough.

Yuffie showed up at his garage/workshop one day. “So Cloud,” she started, trying to peer over his shoulder. “I hear you’ve been-”

He held up a half finished shiruken, smirking. “How’s the balance feel like?”

She squealed and grabbed it, testing the weight and the balance and the edge. “Oh my god Cloud it’s perfect thank youuuuu.” She hugged him, only half-remembering to hold the shiruken so that neither of them would get stabbed. “Finish it, it’s amaziiiing.”

When he was finished, it was sharp and vicious and the grip was wrapped in the royal colors of Wutai. Her eyes widened when she noticed it, gripping it properly and nodding - and then she hugged him again for good measure.

Reeve wasn’t a fighter, and any adaptions to Cait were likely best left to the expert himself - but Reeve was a target now, a public figure and thus in danger, so Cloud built him armor, light weight and flexible and invisible under a suit. Cloud delivered it with one of his normal packages - Reeve opened it and blinked in honest surprise, muttering thanks before turning it over and over in his hands. (”Don’ tell ‘im I told you,” Cait said later, “But he didn’t really expect to be included in all this.” The cat gestured to the bar, to the group, to AVALANCHE, and Cloud understood.)

Cloud didn’t really want to get into ballistics, knowing full well that there was nothing he could make for Vincent that Vincent couldn’t make for himself better - so he gathered up all the WEAPON bone he wasn’t using for other projects or kept for repairs, plus some other rare materials he’d gathered, stuck it all in a package, with some custom materia slots he’d built, with a note that said “have fun.”

The last weapon was different. No materia slots, and no fancy tricks. He worked on it late at night, when he couldn’t sleep, and when the silence got too loud. He tried, more than any of the others, to make it /beautiful/ and powerful, to make it /fit/.

One night Tifa followed him out to the workshop and saw what he was making - she swallowed, and his shoulders tensed - but all she did was sit down next to him on the bench and ask if there was anything she could do to help. His shoulders loosened and he nodded, showing her how work the metal.

The two of them, together, carried the gleaming silver staff to the Church and leaned it up against the Buster Sword amongst the flowers. The church was bright and empty except for the smell of flowers and the faintest laughter in the back of their minds.


End file.
